SPORTS OF THE TIMES; Giambi, a Former Outcast, Becomes a Leader

By GEORGE VECSEY

Published: September 21, 2006

The strangest part of the A-Rod saga is the identity of the player who put the hammer down on the most remote Yankee. That would be Jason Giambi, who, in a different world, might have been driven out of New York, and maybe even his profession.

Instead of becoming a pariah for his involvement in the Balco drug scandal, Giambi has become the sergeant-at-arms of the Yankees' clubhouse, the man who does the dirty work when dirty work needs to be done.

According to Tom Verducci's compelling sounds-right-to-me article in the current issue of Sports Illustrated, it was Giambi who took Alex Rodriguez out behind the barn late last month in Boston and told him to shape up. Even the subsequent closed-door lecture in Seattle from Manager Joe Torre sounded less intimidating than Giambi's warning to get with it.

Since then, his ego mussed up, his spotless uniform symbolically muddied, A-Rod has been playing significantly better. He had helped the Yankees close to a game of clinching their ninth straight division title going into last night's game in Toronto.

Managers are supposed to shock their players, great or marginal, when they are lapsing into bad habits. A-Rod's worst habit may be trying to be too perfect, advancing his own self-styled squeaky image. But it took the pigpen personified, Giambi, to spatter some realistic glop on A-Rod's self-image.

Profanely punctuating his lecture, Giambi told Rodriguez that walks and bleeder hits were not the reason he was being paid $252 million over 10 years by the Texas Rangers and the Yankees. A-Rod is being paid for power. So be powerful, Giambi urged him, in much stronger words than that.

The funny thing is, this mental posture exercise may normally be considered captain's work. But there are captains and there are captains. Derek Jeter leads by example, and what a fine example it is -- leadoff doubles to start rallies, headfirst catches while diving into the paying customers, alert defensive plays to snuff out a laggard Oakland base runner named -- check out this symmetry -- Jeremy Giambi, one of the greatest assists in Yankee lore.

Do as Derek does, not as Derek says. Derek does not say much. In reality, he has been a trifle arch since the old hands O'Neill, Brosius and Martinez moved on after 2001. When asked about the winning habits of an increasingly slender band of Yankees, Jeter will say, ''some of us.'' For a while I thought he meant itinerants like Jeff Weaver and Ra?ondes?but other times it sounded as if he were including the former playboy of the western world, Giambi from Oakland, with whom the Yankees have won zero World Series.

Yet when Giambi virtually admitted he had taken steroids obtained from the notorious Balco emporium, where Barry Bonds was a major patron, Jeter made no value judgments.

The other day, in a general conversation about cheating in sports, Donna Lopiano, the executive director of the Women's Sports Foundation, and a leading voice of conscience, said she was disappointed that leaders like Jeter did not speak out against the use of illegal drugs.

Instead, Jeter defended Giambi and waited for the mob (headline writers, fans, members of Congress, etc.) to lay off him. That happened precisely when Giambi semi-apologized and started to hit home runs. Right now, Giambi has a sore wrist that makes him slightly doubtful for the postseason, but he has shown himself to be a major player in the Yankees' hierarchy.

Jeter cannot say things about A-Rod because that would imply a relationship. Once upon a time they were friends, a couple of talented kids kept out of meaningful roles in the 1995 postseason by conservative managers, measuring themselves against the bittersweet older star Ken Griffey Jr.

Then they took vastly different career paths. Jeter is real, taking emotional and educational lessons from his parents, showing a swagger that helped win four World Series. A-Rod is a phantom, a smile and a shoeshine, to use Arthur Miller's words for his salesman Willy Loman.

The Mariners wanted to keep him in Seattle after Junior went home to Cincinnati. Management introduced A-Rod to the wizards of Microsoft and Boeing and Starbucks, telling him, ''This could be your town.'' And what a lovely town it is.

But the poor lunk, miserably advised by Scott (Take the Money and Run) Boras, went to Texas instead, for fool's gold. Now he is in New York, a streak hitter, a streak fielder, a will-o'-the-wisp in a cold clubhouse. His aloofness became so bad that A-Rod found himself being lectured by Jason Giambi.

A-Rod is not a bad person. He has high standards for himself, yet he has managed to alienate just about everybody in his clubhouse -- but he can fix that with one month of slugging, and maybe his travel-day tie sloppily knotted, maybe even with a dab of mustard on it. He has to survive and produce, like Jason Giambi, who is no angel, yet earned the right to lecture A-Rod. The World Series, and A-Rod's professional image, could be riding on those blunt words from the prodigal Yankee.

Photo: Yankees closer Mariano Rivera has not pitched since Aug. 31 because of an arm injury, but he was not too hurt to join in the celebration last night. (Photo by Mark Blinch/Reuters)(pg. D3)